Too Young to Die
by timeforthefandoms
Summary: Death. It's so common in the world of Panem. Another year of the Hunger Games, another year of suffering. This is the story of 24 children being thrown into an arena to slaughter each other. Last year Katniss Everdeen won the third quarter quell, alone. There was no revolution and the suffering hasn't ended. This is what happened the year after. The 76th annual Hunger Games.


**Okay so I'm just writing this story because I feel like it. This story is a spinoff of "The Hunger Games", but using kids that go to my school. I'm not using myself because if I did this would not be a very good story. So lets just get on with it. This chapter is the reaping of one of the tributes. THIS STORY WILL SWITCH POV! I'm doing that because then no one will know who exactly would win. Hope you enjoy.**

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_I feel myself spinning around in circles, studying my surroundings. A meadow to my left, an ocean/beach behind me, and to the front of me spreading all the way until the edge of the ocean is a replica of a small, abandoned, capitol city._

_"Crap," I growl to myself as the gong rings in my ears._

_I sprint towards the Cornucopia hoping to simply grab a small pack, but before I even realize my doom, it hits me like a knife. When I say that I mean it quite literally._

_Sadly, my turtle-like reflexes couldn't have been slow enough. The knife hits me straight in the back and I simply just start screaming._

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I shoot up in my makeshift bed on the ground made of only one blanket and a piece of cloth filled with old chicken feathers. I feel the cool sweat on my brow and the shivers wracking through my body. I know that dream. I've been having that dream since I was a small child. I sometimes cant help but thinking if there is a place far away from here where the retched Hunger Games never existed.

"Ugh. What am I thinking," I mumble.

"You're imagining, so don't be so hard on yourself. I didn't know you were awake," the kind voice of my mother answers.

"I'm always awake on the morning of the reaping. Can you bring me the pail of cold water, I should really start to get ready."

My mother leaves without a sound as I look around for something presentable in our two-room cabin.

I finally find what I was looking for. I let out a long shaky sigh as I remember the last rime this dress was worn. I swore to myself that day, the day that my only sister died that I would never wear the dress that she wore the morning she was sent to her death. But I guess that all promises must be broken at some point in time. Especially if the person you promised it to is dead.

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I run down the cobblestone road as my best friends Jasmine and Jacob try to sprint ahead of me. I swear if they were ever reaped at least they would have a chance…kind of.

"Oh come on guys! You know I can't run that well! I have terrible stamina!" I scream still out of breath.

"All right okay, but you know we love you," Jasmine says while sticking her tongue out at me.

"I don't understand how you guys can joke around on a day like this," I scrim.

"Look she's right. This isn't a day for joking around. We need to start getting serious about reaping day. Year after year our name is in there more. We need to get smart about this," Jacob says.

The rest of the walk to the Justice Hall is spent with us holding on to each other's hands, praying that our name is not pulled. My name is in there 21 times, Jacob's 27, and Jasmine's 18 times. We all know that the reaping for a child is the scariest day of their short lives if they have the burden of getting their name pulled out of that damned bowl up on that damned stage. I noticed that we have begun to fall behind the rest of the groups so I tug their hands forward.

We finally reach the small table where our finger gets pricked. I've always hated this part. I just kind of…do not like blood, at all. As my nimble index finger draws blood I feel a warm sensation go through me, and I begin to get a little lightheaded. The only thing that stops me from falling on the ground is Jasmine's hand on my shoulder. I slowly walk forward with the assistance of Jasmine as me walk towards our age group.

"Good luck," we both wish Jacob and with that we part our ways.

After we watch the annual Capitol video about how the Hunger Games began. The reaping begins.

"Welcome, Welcome to the 76th annual Hunger Games. Happy Hunger Games and May the odds be _ever_ in _your _favor," Crimson Finkle bellows, as bright and bubbly as ever. With her big, puffy lime green wig, that matches her lime grime cardigan and blue knee high dress, some of the audience members have to shield their eyes from the brightness.

"Well lets get on with it shall we. Let's switch it up a little and do boys first," she squeals as if this were the most exciting thing in existence. She digs her perfectly manicured hand into the perfectly polished bowl and draws a slip out.

"Please not Jacob. Please not Jacob. Please not Jacob," I hear Jasmine mumbling with her fingers crossed.

"Jacob McCarthy," she announces into the microphone.  
We all stand frozen. I know the tears will come but not here, not now. I have to be strong for him. Jacob slowly starts to function again and begins to make his way to where his death sentence will begin.

"No!" Jasmine screams as she runs up to the center aisle, but the peacekeepers escort her back to me.

I begin to rub her back knowing that this is probably the hardest moment in her entire life. Losing her only family member is not going to be easy, but maybe she could move in with me if all goes well.

I'm ripped out of my thoughts by Jasmine shaking me on the shoulders. I see her paled face and that can only mean one thing. I have been reaped.

I make my way up to the stage. I thought I had gotten this one in the bag, but you are never out of the dark in times like this.

"Now shake hands both of you," she yips. We shake as if we have never met before, but he gives my hand a small squeeze of assurance and I return it.

I look into his eyes and all I can see is fear but also strength that say "We are in this together or not at all."

I know the look in his eyes is genuine, but I am going to die inside of that arena and so is he.

My name is Isabella Feng. I am 14 years old. I am from district 12. And I am going to die.

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**Okay so I really hope you guys enjoyed that and give me some feedback I love to hear what you guys have to say. Again this story is going to be changing point of views! You guys are awesome so follow this story, like it, do whatever you want and the next chapter will be up soon!**


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